I laid awake in bed beside John, feeling him jerk and move around in his sleep. He used to be a combat soldier and has PTSD. Nightmares happened often with him and every time it happened I wanted to move closer, to hold him. He warned me to never touch him while it was happening, afraid he would hurt me on accident not knowing who exactly was touching him. I had heard stories of war vets even killing their wife before because of the PTSD. John refused to seek help, and I didnt know much more about it than what he told me.
Tonight seemed worse than the usual. He started saying things in his sleep, thrashing around. I wanted to be closer to him, to wake him, to comfort him and tell him it was ok now. I pushed away everything he told me and reached my hand out to touch his shoulder. When my hand came in contact with him he jumped and almost hurt me. I gasped and scurried away to the edge of the bed. He jumped up and looked down at me, angry.
"Im sorry John," I whimpered in shock.
"I told you never touch me," he growled.
"I know Im sorry John. I know its hard for you I understand I just want to help make it better,"
"It dont get better. Nothing gets better Julie, it gets worse. Dont believe me? Ask all those men who have killed the woman they love all because of these damn flashbacks. We are trained to kill. No hesitation, no mercy. This is what I am. Im a killer,"
"You killed for your country, John. You didn't murder anyone,"
"I DIDN'T KILL FOR MY COUNTRY! I KILLED FOR ME! I DID IT FOR ME! CANT YOU SEE THAT?!"
"John, you rescued people. You have saved lives. You did what needed to be done. You didnt kill an innocent man. Out there? Its killed or be killed. You did what you had to in order to survive,"
"Yeah you keep telling yourself that. I tried for years!"
He turned and began to walk out of the room. I lunged and grabbed onto his arm. He flinched, almost starting to punch until he caught himself.
"John please dont shut me out. Please. I need you, you need me. You're home now, everything is okay. No one is going to hurt you or me," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face.
He sighed and turned back, laying down on the bed. I cuddled closed to him, trying my hardest to show him it was alright to let go. He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my head.
"Look, Im sorry. I just cant ever hurt you. Ill never forgive myself...." he admitted, choking up a little.
"I will always forgive you, John Rambo."
